


Whatever You Say, Sugar

by CaptchaBlog



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, College AU, Cuddling, Established Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Southern accents, fluff fluff fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptchaBlog/pseuds/CaptchaBlog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John loves Dave's accent, but Dave's pretty conscious about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever You Say, Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> I loved writing this! :) it's so cute <3 enjoy!

——-

He’s really great at hiding it. He’s perfected it over the years- coming up with excuses and hiding behind his false superego.

You don’t really know why he’s so embarrassed by it or why he dislikes it. It’s a part of who he is- so why cover it up? Who he is is perfect to you.

You live for the moments when he slips up; when he forgets.

It’s particularly evident when he’s sick, flustered, upset, or when he’s concentrating too hard.

Yup, you’re obsessed with Dave Strider’s accent.

~

It’s a beautiful, sunny Wednesday afternoon and the two of you are currently cramming for your Chem final.

You’re sprawled out on the floor of your dorm-room, papers and textbooks thrown across the room and draping over the beds. Forgotten pens, paperclips, and empty cups of coffee are tossed around the room- adding to the mayhem.

You, John Egbert, are currently laying on your back- one arm holding up a paper laden with unintelligible scribbles while the other cards through your dark mop of hair.

“Dave,” you whine, hitting your forehead, “Dave, I can’t do this. I’m going to bomb this test so hard, the teacher’s going to give me a NEGATIVE score.”

Dave’s lying on his side across his own bed. He’s chewing on the drawstring of his bright red hoodie. At the mention of his name, you see his eyebrows quirk up behind his dark shades.

“Thirty-seven,” he sighs.

You look at him over your head. “What?”

“That’s the thirty-seventh time you’ve complained about failing this test.” He closes the textbook in front of him and stretches his arms out above his head. “Now’s when I tell you that you need to chill out, then you’re going to retort by say-”

“That’s stupid!”

“-ing ‘That’s stupid’ and then I’ll just throw my hands in the air- like so-,” he does, “and leave you to suffer and worry just like before.”

“UUGGHH,” you groan as you turn over on your stomach. You flop your legs around, like a four-year old. “Maybe I can just suffocate myself on this carpet and then I won’t have to take the test.”

“I’m not taking it for you,” Dave mumbles as he opens his book again and ignores your tantrum. “It’s your funeral.”

“You’re a sucky boyfriend, you know that?” The carpet muffles your voice.

You hear his breathy laugh from on top of the bed. “Yeah, yeah, can it, kiddo.”

You lift your head up and rest on your chin.

You know you’re probably going to do alright on the test. It’s just your nerves. Every test you study for, it seems like you know everything and things are going smoothly. But, as soon as that paper is set down in front of you and the timer starts, your brain basically checks out.

You roll back over and remove your glasses to clean them on the edge of your shirt.

“Dave?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we go for ice cream or something? We’ve been in here all day.”

He swings his legs off of the bed and pulls his converse on. “Sure, why not? We deserve it.”

~

Twenty minutes later, you’re picking out your flavors from behind the large glass window. Dave picks ‘rocky road’ and you go for ‘cookie dough’.

“That’ll be $8.45,” the cashier nods to Dave.  
Dave goes for his wallet, balancing his cone in his other hand.

“No, Dave, here I got it,” you bat his hand away and hand the cashier your card. Dave shrugs and continues out the door. He knows that your family is loaded from the Betty Crocker Corp, but you can still tell it bothers him when you pay for everything.

You’re both walking along the street, avoiding any bikers or random pedestrians that come your way. You hold your melting ice cream cone in one hand and Dave’s hand in the other. It’s not a long walk back to your dorm, so you take it slow.

“I’m just saying dude, it gets a little old,” he mumbles, taking a bite out of his cone.

“Oh come on, dude,” you groan, “not this again.”

“Yes, this again.” You can practically feel him roll his eyes behind the shades. “I don’t understand why you have to go paying for everything we do. I’m more than capable of spending a little cash now and then.”

“Dave,” you shake the hand your holding, “Stop it. There’s literally a stack of money in my grandmother’s account just sitting there doing nothing. It’s got our names all over it. It’s really nothing.”

“Well it’s not nothing to me!” He cringes at how stupid that sounded and looks down at his moving feet.

“Daaaave.” He doesn’t respond- just looks down and keeps walking coolly. “Dave talk to me.” Still nothing.

He slips his hand out of yours and crosses his arms. Is he seriously pouting right now?

“Ohhh hooo hooo,” you hunch over to look at his face, a wide grin spreading across yours, “Someone’s a little grumpy today.”

You see his lips form a tight line and he quickens his pace. You trip in surprise and speed up too, grinning the whole way.

Before long, you’re opening the door to your room again and Dave is slipping in and back over to his bed. He settles on top of it and opens his book. He plugs in his headphones, turns the volume up, and shuts himself out from the world and you.

You sigh and resume lying on the ground like before.

You don’t like it when he gets like this- when he closes himself off and hides his feelings away, deep in that mysterious mind. It makes you just want to take him in your arms and hug him until he lets go and smiles again. You love that smile…

You roll over and hop up so you’re crouching on your feet, elbows resting on your knees. He’s sitting still, reading? You can’t tell anything with those shades on.

You slowly get up and make your way over to the bed, like you’re walking on glass. You place one knee carefully on the side. He doesn’t move. The other knee. Still nothing. 

You eventually shift over so you’re sitting right next to him. He hasn’t acknowledged that you’re there, but you can see his lips pursing even tighter and his hands gripping the book.

You slowly lean over and place your head on his shoulder. He tenses up and you smile.  
“Whatcha readin’ there?” you ask quietly, like you don’t know.

When he doesn’t say anything and continues to ignore you, you get impatient. Time for Plan B.

You shift your head slightly and nuzzle into the crook between his neck and chin. You can feel his stubble from this morning growing in. He smells just like he always does. Like cinnamon gum and cologne. You can feel his pulse increase and you smile against his skin.

You press your lips to the spot where you feel his heartbeat increase. You press a few more kisses to his neck and work your way up his jaw, slowly. You almost make it to his lips, teasing the edge of his mouth before he slams the book closed and you jump.

He turns to you, takes the headphones out, and glares at you (you think). His face is still set like stone, but there’s a blush crawling up from his neck and flooding his face- which he is obviously trying to hide now.

“What the hell you tryin’ pull on me, Egbert? I’m mad at you, alright?”

He’s getting flustered now. You see a window of opportunity.

“But Daaaave,” you whine. You card one hand through his hair and smile, inching your face closer to his. You would love to see how wide his eyes must be right now. “You’re just so… adorable?”

“Stop twistin’ mah foot, John.” The way he says John sounds like ‘Jawn’.

You’ve got him right where you want him. 

“What was that?” You smirk evilly, scooting closer to him.

He clears his throat and bends his neck away from you. “I said ‘Stop TWISTING MY foot, JOHN.”

“I don’t think that’s what you said. That’s not what I heard,” you giggle.

He scoffs and it’s one of those special occasions where Dave is at a loss for words. He knows his words will betray him in a situation like this.

“Come on,” you lean in towards his ear and give it a quick kiss, “Say more stuff, huh?”

“No.”

“Oh, but I really like it when you do.”

“Tough titties, Jonathan.”

You snort. “Dave, look at me, please?"

He reluctantly shifts his heads towards you and you slowly reach up and take his face in your hands. You kiss him sweetly and slowly. And, like a charm, you feel him melt into it. You say sorry in about a thousand ways in that kiss. You rub your hands up and down his arms, soothing him and drawing a gentle sigh from him.

When you finally pull back you place softer kisses across his face while lifting up his shades. You pull back and admire his red gaze that turns your heart into a puddle. Right now, they’re so unsure and filled with uncertainty. Maybe you crossed a line…

You lean forward with a smile and press a kiss to one eye, then the other. When you pull back again, he’s giving you his signature crooked smile, eyes crinkling around the edges- absolutely perfect.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper softly running your fingers over his neck and jaw, “I went too far. Maybe I SHOULD let you pay for something every once in a while- like the chivalrous knight you are.” He gives you a breathy laugh. “I’m also sorry for pointing out your accent.” You kiss his forehead. “I know it makes you uncomfortable. Just say the word and I’ll stop, seriously dude.”

He looks your face up and down, then finally sighs with a small smirk.

“Nah, I don’t mind. I guess it just takes some getting used to- letting my guard down like that.”

“Yeah,” you agree, smiling, “I know it’s tough. I won’t force you to do it again. You take your time-”

Suddenly, he takes both of your hands in his and pushes them against your chest. You can see his eyes brighten up as he raises one eyebrow.

“Awww,” he drawls, moving in close to your face, “It ain’t no thaaang, babe.”

It’s your turn to blush from ear to ear as he gets closer. “Hehehe, ok, Dave! I get it!”

“Whaaat?” he draws out all the vowels, making his voice deep and husky, smooth as honey. His eyes are smoldering you now. “You don’t like it? Isn’t this what you wanted?” He leans in closer. “Babe?”

“Well, er, yeah it is?” It’s your turn to be the flustered one. Oh, how the tables have turned.

He laughs and it’s like music to your ears. He leans it and kisses your lips, your jaw, your neck. He makes his way up to your ear and whispers, “You wanted it. So now I’m laying it on heavy, sugar.”

You feel the hair on your neck raise up.

You don’t know what makes you do it, but you suddenly escape from his grip and fling your arms around him, collapsing on top of him on the bed. Both you and he lie there in a heap, a bundle of giggles and snorts.

You finally bring your face back to his and kiss him deeply and feverishly. He laces one hand through that back of your hair and tugs you closer, crushing his lips harder into yours.

You come up from breath and you both are panting, just looking at each other.

“Dave?” you ask, smiling from each to ear.

“Yeaahh?”

“Um… I think you should call me that… from now on.”

“What? Sugar?”

You blush up and down, and mumble a yes, nodding your head lazily.

“Well,” he picks up the low drawl again, pecking you quickly on the lips-

“Whatever you say, sugar.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment!


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